


As It Is Meant To Be

by conteur_reveur



Series: Asit Tal-Eb [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Angry Warden, Angst, Don't I Know You?, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hardened Alistair, Healing, Hitting Things Because Feelings Are Too Hard, Implied/Referenced Violent Attack, Occasional Emotional Outbursts, Platonic Relationships, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition Tresspasser, Romance, Slow Burn, it's a small world, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:45:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7361992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conteur_reveur/pseuds/conteur_reveur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Halia Surana is ordered to perform the Joining Ritual for one of the Inquisitor's Inner Circle, and has a difficult time reconciling with history. Character and pairing tags will be updated as the story progresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 of this story was originally posted on Tumblr as Asit Tal-Eb and has undergone revisions.

Halia Surana read, and re-read the letter, fighting angry tears. She would never have a moment; that much was clear now. She dug her toes into the sand and pulled the cord that had been keeping her dark hair out of her face. If she was going to give into sobbing, no one needed to see it. Ugly sounds forced themselves from her chest.

“Kadan?” Rumbled a deep voice as a huge hand rested on her shoulder.

“Shanedon, Arishok,” she replied gasping sharply to collect herself.

The great bronze, armored wall sank beside her. “There is a storm in your soul.”

He was Sten when they had met. Since Halia had known him he had been nearly Tal-Vashoth, Sten, and he had ultimately been named the head of the Qunari military. Nearly nothing to the center of everything seemed to be the standard for those close to her.

“You're kinder than you used to be, Arishok. When we met you would have called me maraas imekari,” Halia said, trying to laugh. 

“Yes,” he agreed. “But I better understand now that your bleating is frequently meaningful.”

She sighed and tilted her head to the side, leaning against him now. “Why did I come here?”

Seheron was a warm comfort to her. It was as he had told her long ago, tea, incense, and the sea. She found peace in the order that daily life there demanded, though it had taken actually seeing the place to understand how true it was that he had always seen war. The irony had heartily amused Alistair, though she doubted he still found it funny.

Halia departed for her first visit to Seheron three days after the celebration of the Archdemon’s defeat. She returned with hundreds of new stories which she was elated to share with a now-married king who would never have time to hear all of them. She would be named Warden-Commander within the year and never again have time to tell them. Their time together couldn't be wasted on the past when they had just enough time for the present. 

“You came here to heal,” he reminded her. “And then to return to your duty.”

A bitter laugh escaped her. “It seems duty calls. I’ve been summoned by order of the King,” the words came in a hiss.

“Vashedan,” said the Arishok, as he stirred to rise. "He is a fool.”

Halia curled forward, hugging her legs. “Be calm, my friend. I suppose it isn’t really his fault this time.”

He moved to sit in front of her, and tucked the hair that had fallen in her face behind her ears. Red scars in jagged shapes shone where the points of her ears had once been. The flesh had begun to round itself, but the sight no matter how well healed, was always going to be a grotesque mutilation to her.

“He is a coward, and a fool,” the Arishok reiterated.

She wanted, momentarily, to disagree with him. “He is exactly what I allowed him to be.”

“Asit tal-eb.” He said the words as if they were a reminder, but Halia shook her head. 

"There were choices.”

“There are always choices." 

"I could have told him to stay with the Wardens and just let Anora have the throne. What did he care for it? But instead I told him that people are always out for themselves. I spoiled the part of him that still knew goodness. I could have let him break off our relationship when he decided to take the throne, but I was blinded by,” the word soured in her mouth and she practically choked on it, “love.”

“So it is your fault that his Queen had you attacked? Parshaara, he named you his, but did not protect you. He did not avenge you. He has no honor.”

She couldn’t answer this. “I am bound by the King’s rule and the Southern Wardens agreement to aid the Inquisition.”

"You are bound by other fools to make amends for their mistakes and failings. You have offered too much to this Inquisition already, and they have squandered it,” the Arishok pointed out with a sneer. 

It was true enough. Her suggestion that the Qunari assist the Inquisition had resulted in spectacular failures for the Qunari. The Ariqun had seized the operations. The Hissrad had turned Tal-Vashoth and allowed a dreadnought to be destroyed. The Arishok had considered seizing the Inquisition, and Halia had implored him to reconsider. She reminded him that he once challenged her own methods, but now considered her basalit-an. He reminded her that his decision not to intervene was at the will of the Qun, and that just because he stayed his weapons did not mean that Ariqun would. 

She was told that the spy had survived his dissent from the Qun. 

“This is my duty. Surely you of all people can understand that, even if you disapprove of those I have to serve,” she spoke wearily.

“You can still find your place here, Kadan,” he said gently, a massive finger skimming over her left ear.

She shook her head sadly, “You know that isn’t so. Besides, my business there is short; a Joining for one of the Inquisitor’s warriors.”

The Arishok did not know the details of the Joining, but he knew that she did not like to perform it. He changed the course, but surprised her by asking, “Will you see their Commander?”

Halia cringed. “I shouldn’t tell you things, Kadan. Your memory is too long.”

He laughed, and said, “You face an archdemon and army of darkspawn with a smirk, and you cry over the feelings of men.”

She shoved him, entirely without effect, and laughed at herself. “Do you think many people know how funny you are?”

“Is it not obvious?” He deadpanned in reply. “You should see their Commander. It will bring you peace. And if it does not, you will have the spy and the witch for comfort.”

She took his big hand into her tiny one. “You have my thanks, as always. Panahedan, Kadan. I will miss you.”

“You will bring cookies when you return?” he asked her.

“And I will send them when I arrive.”

“Panahedan, Kadan,” said the Arishok. “I will miss you, too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halia travels, acquires a friend, and gets a hug.

Halia had been traveling for seventeen days. Seheron to Vyrantium had been easy. Passage on a merchant ship for a few sovereigns and a hearty inventory of healing supplies had gotten her across the sea to the Imperium. Her Warden armor had gotten her safely through the city unharmed. Luck and poverty had gotten her through the next week of traveling through the heart of Tevinter. 

She bought an injured horse from a farmer who could hardly afford to keep it before it had been hamstrung by a claw trap. Halia and a Spirit of Purpose were able to successfully heal the beast, whose name was technically Canticle but would only respond to Tickle. The fastest path to Skyhold Fortress was following the river to the Imperial Highway. She avoided populated areas when she could, but twice found herself in small Soporati villages. These were the places on her route she most risked capture from the desperate who would sell her to slavers to feed their families.

The safest way of keeping herself out of an ambush was offering free medical care to the poorest villages. Everyone had family that was ill, injured, or pregnant. Halia hoped to avoid delivering any babies. It was time consuming and kept her from treating as many as she might otherwise be able to. Her good fortune, and the villagers’ collective waters, held. 

She found herself doing much the same through the poorest villages in Nevarra, giving herself around 4 hours of sleep, and spending the rest of her nights ensuring the survival of others. 

The further south she traveled the more necessary it became to conceal her identity as a Grey Warden, which was an unanticipated frustration she hadn't faced since the Blight. By the time she reached Cumberland, she was exclusively hiding her armor under black mage robes. Halia had no patience for lectures and attacks over “her kind” murdering the Divine, and she had no interest in shedding blood.

When she landed in Jader, it took almost no time to find an Inquisition scout. She identified herself as Mender, and sent a raven to Leliana to let her know of her progress. The small encampment of Inquisition agents were suspicious of her, which Halia found both humorous and gratifying. 

_Nightingale,_

_I am in Jader. Your friends here are a bit wary of me. It's almost as though someone has taught these sweet children that the world is a dangerous place full of secrets and people who can't be trusted._

_I'll see you soon._  
_-Mender_

Halia rode out as soon as the bird flew off. It took her three hours to lose the agent who was following her. They were close enough to Ferelden to make out-navigating them easy. She stayed a night in Orzammar, able to take a warm bath, replenish her supplies, and organize her research. It was easier for her to get what she needed to prepare for the Joining here than anywhere else. 

She departed early, feeling more human than she had in weeks. The remaining days of travel were spent with her head down and her pace quickened. She rested when Tickle required it, but found herself whispering bribes to the beast. 

“I will ransack their kitchens for the biggest lumps of sugar I can find for you if you just keep going. Every bit of bread I get for the next month is yours, you gorgeous beast,” she urged. 

It was still dark when she arrived at the expansive refugee camp at Skyhold’s gates. She scanned the scene for Grey Warden banners. They weren't difficult to find, and their fire was still lit. A small cluster of Orlesian Wardens chattered quietly, but jovially in the earliest hints of daylight. 

“Good morning, brothers,” she greeted. 

They eyed her curiously, giving her staff a particularly uninspired glance. “Free Marches?”

“No,” she answered. “Name?”

“I am Jean-Pierre, this is Guillaume, and Henri. You are?”

“Halia,” she answered. “I know a great deal of your senior infrastructure is lost. Who is acting as Warden-Constable?”

Guillaume smiled winningly, “That would be me, Warden-Commander.”

“Commander?” Jean-Pierre asked in surprise. “You know her, Gui?”

“An elven mage named Halia, and you don't know who she is? This is the fucking Hero of Ferelden,” Guillaume said, giving Jean-Pierre a friendly smack in the head. 

“Well, someone did the reading. Good, you can fill me in. I assume Weisshaupt is as helpful as ever?” she asked.

“Fuck Weisshaupt,” declared Henri, spitting into the fire. 

“Well put, that,” Halia said with a laugh. “Constable, be so kind as to escort me up to the fortress? I'd prefer not to draw too much notice, but I understand they've collected a fair library that I would very much like to avail myself of.” 

“Yes, Commander. There are a few matters I was hoping to discuss with the Inquisitor’s advisors, but it would probably be better if you did, since you're here,” Guillaume said with a bit of relief in his voice.

“Go on, then,” she said, as he rose and they walked toward the massive stone towers on the horizon. She led Canticle by the reins as they spoke. 

“Lovely friend you've got here,” Guillaume said, complimenting the horse. 

Halia nodded in agreement, “And she knows it. Practically as spoiled as my mabari was and we've only know one another for three weeks.”

“Fereldans,” he muttered. “But what is this lovely lady named?”

“Tickle, assuming you want her to do anything. She's recently liberated from the Imperium,” Halia answered. “Now what's the problem?”

“A few things. First is that the Inquisition is proposing using us for standard missions, essentially just being fed to demons because there are darkspawn nearby. We can clean up the darkspawn once the Inquisitor’s troops handle the demons, but we're half as prepared for demon attacks as the Inquisition. And more susceptible to blood magic, at the moment,” Guillaume said, his face reddening.

She pressed a hand to her temple, “I see. Anything else?”

“Yes, Commander. It's about...er… the Warden Recruit of the Inquisitor’s. The Inquisitor’s and her inner circle still call him Blackwall,” he said, clearly trying to keep the edge from his voice.

Halia breathed an exasperated sigh. “Charming.”

“Some of the men don't mind, but some… well… Warden-Constable Blackwall was a good man and the few old timers are a bit, ah, put out. More importantly, I worry about the Joining with a man who can't even bear his own name,” Gui elaborated.

It was a sensible concern. Resolve and willpower played a big part in living through the Joining, and being unwilling to accept the person you are before the Joining rarely yielded positive results. 

“Anything else?” she asked. 

“Nothing urgent, we can catch you up completely when the sun rises,” Guillaume said. He paused at the massive stone gate and called up to the guard. “Early business with the Commander, Ser.”

“And your friend?” called back the guard, eyeing her suspiciously. 

“A fellow Warden, of course,” he said in a charming tone. His Orlesian accent melted over his words and he would have stopped her in her tracks when she was younger. “She came as soon as it was safe for her to enter the country without being enthralled. Surely you can't have forgotten so lovely a face?”

The guard looked down, seemingly embarrassed. “Of course, Wardens. Please forgive me. Please, go on.”

“I'm going to keep you,” she said to Guillaume with a grin. “You’re going to love Amaranthine.”

“Well I didn't say I was meeting with their Commander,” he said with a cheerful laugh. “Right this way, Commander.”

They left Tickle at the stable with some lovely looking vegetable scraps and jogged toward a set of steps that led them to an empty throne room. He held a door to the right into a rotunda adorned with beautifully painted frescos she wanted badly to investigate further. 

“Just up these stairs,” he said with a smile. “If you can stand Sister Nightingale’s wretched crows. Two years and they still startle at every slamming door.”

“She keeps her ravens here?” Halia asked with a smirk.

“Of course. The Nightingale nests on the top floor. She's terrifying, apparently. Every time Commander Cullen has a new recruit we bet sovereigns on how long before she makes them cry,” Guillaume said with a laugh.

Halia tried to contain her amusement. “You're dismissed, thank you for your assistance. Though if I could impose on you to ask the Stable Master to give Tickle a bit of extra love, I'd certainly appreciate it.”

“Certainly, Commander,” he answered. “Consider it done.”

She scaled the steps, foregoing the library to perch at Leliana’s desk with a grin. The sky was growing lighter and a scullery maid arrived shortly with a tea service. She was startled to find Halia waiting at the desk, casually reading reports.

“Good morning,” Halia said cheerfully to the maid. She took the tea tray and placed it next to her. 

“You don't look like one of her people,” said the maid with alarm in her eyes.

Halia laughed, “I suppose I probably don't. You can tell her a strange elven mage is sitting on her desk, going through her things and drinking her tea if you'd like.”

Halia took a cup and saucer from the tray and began to serve herself, as if to emphasize her point. The maid took off running down the stairs. 

It was hardly a minute before Leliana was at the top of the tower steps, face lit in an enormous grin. The spy master gazed delighted at her friend before lunging forward and wrapping her arms around Halia’s neck. The two of them embraced tearfully, relief and joy practically coming off of both of them in waves. 

Their foreheads rested together and Halia laughed through her tears. “I forgot what coming home felt like again.”

“So did I,” Leliana said thickly. 

“Welcome home,” Halia said, wiping her friends tears away.

“Welcome home,” Leliana said, doing the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ThedasWith](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThedasWitch/pseuds/ThedasWitch) is my wonderful beta reader, who makes sure that Tickle doesn't get sick, and lets me know that it's okay to use apostrophes. She is wonderful, and you should read her work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which friends catch up, one commander briefly experiences thirteen years of regression, and another experiences a substantial change of plans.

Leliana maneuvered a delicately carved piece across the chess board, and then rested her hands on her knee. She looked at her opponent with something that resembled a gentle expression of telling a child bad news. 

 

Commander Cullen raised a brow to her as he captured her castle. His tone was casual as he spoke, “I am not entirely certain how you've managed it, but your cheating is even more conspicuous when you are trying to lose than it is when you try to win.”

 

She ignored the accusation. “There is something you should probably know, Commander.”

 

His posture shifted, and he looked prepared to spring into battle. “Not some new threat?”   

 

She laughed good-naturedly, and he relaxed again. Leliana hummed thoughtfully, looking for a way to phrase the words appropriately. “I've had word that an important visitor will arrive in the next few days, and it seemed inappropriate not to prepare you.”

 

“A noble looking for glory now that the battle’s won?” he asked in distaste.

 

“Not precisely. A Grey Warden mage, actually. She is here to perform the Joining ritual for Blackwall,” Leliana spoke carefully. 

 

“I assume that means she shall require Templar supervision then. Can we be too careful when it comes to the possibility that the Venatori may still hold some thralls?” Cullen was not grasping her subtlety. 

 

Leliana shook her head. “That won't be necessary. She was well away from the events of Adamant. Now Commander, stop looking at me like that. You know trust is not a word I use lightly but I trust her implicitly.”

 

Cullen expression went from skeptical annoyance to shock. His attempt to remain composed was qualitatively lacking, his eyes wide and hand gripping tightly to the arm of his chair, as he stammered, “Y-you can't mean S-surana?”   

 

The spymaster's expression was calm as she nodded. She studied her colleague with more curiosity than concern. It had crossed her mind that Halia could find herself at Skyhold, but never how Commander Cullen might react to it. He was always interested when she came up, he spoke almost wistfully about her, but it was always abstract. 

 

Leliana repositioned a knight on her board, and he absently crossed the board to threaten her Queen.

 

“There is no shortage of Grey Wardens in the camps. Why send her all this way?” the Commander asked, sounding rather more sullen than she had ever heard him.

 

“She is here at the order of King Alistair. He has concerns about the leadership of the Orlesian Grey, I understand,” Leliana explained. 

 

“I see.” Cullen cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Do you know when she shall be arriving?”

 

“She is resting in my chambers now, in fact,” she answered. She was looking increasingly like a cat that swallowed the canary.

 

“I see,” he repeated. He laughed a little and asked, “You actually let another person into your rooms?”

 

“It has been my experience that Halia is the exception to most rules,” she said in a snicker. “Will you see her while she's here?”

 

Cullen turned scarlet and his mouth went dry. “I can't imagine she would want… I wouldn't wish to… I doubt she has time for--”

 

Leliana held up a hand to him. “Do you remember that I was with her when she came back to the Circle?”

 

Cullen looked at her for a moment, and then quickly focused on the chessboard.

 

“I remember  _ everything  _ you said to each other when you were in that cage,” she continued. “I don't forget anything, Commander Cullen. I watched you  _ very _ carefully before you were recruited to this Inquisition.”

 

He blanched completely, “And what is that supposed to mean?” 

 

“It means that you are not the same person you were then. You have had time to heal, to recover. If you were still that exhausted, tortured boy in a cage begging for the massacre of innocents then you wouldn't be here.” Her tone was definitive. 

 

“You think I'd have ended up at Therinfall Redoubt?” he asked somberly. 

 

He constantly thought about what his life would have been if he hadn't joined the Inquisition. A stain on the ground at the Conclave, or a shattered red lyrium abomination in Emprise de Lion. He wasn't sure what his expression looked like now, but it softened Leliana’s.

 

“No, my friend. I would never have let it come to that. I'd have killed you in Kirkwall myself six years ago,” she said, moving a Cleric to take his Knight and defend the threatened Queen. 

 

He gave a low chuckle, “Well. Thank you for that, I suppose.”

 

He found that his gratitude was sincere. 

 

* * *

 

Halia dug through the pack she had unceremoniously dropped on the desk when she had finally found her way back to it after her nap. She was no stranger to being lost, but it never failed to frustrate her. She quickly lost her way in the massive scale of Skyhold, getting turned around several times, before finding a successful route.

 

“I brought you something,” Halia said, eyes lighting up as she found the object of her search.

 

“A gift? You didn't need to bring me anything,” Leliana said sweetly.

 

Halia rolled a glass jar to her stuffed with leaves to Leliana and replied, “It's not in my nature to keep wonderful things from people I love.”

 

“This  _ is _ wonderful,” Leliana agreed as she inhaled the scent from the jar. “Thank you for the tea.”

 

“Direct from the shores of Seheron. Enjoyed by Qunari Warlords and Grey Warden officers alike,” Halia said with a half smile.

 

“Why were you in Seheron?” Leliana asked. 

 

Halia sighed, “To subtly undermine the Qun?”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“There's always someone to heal in Seheron. And perhaps I needed someone to remind me that trying to escape my purpose and duty is pointless, and won't actually change anything,” Halia said helplessly.

 

Leliana looked down at her desk, “Ah.”

 

“I suppose the summons from His Highness helped a bit driving that last part home _ ,”  _ Halia said flatly.

 

“Did he say… anything?” Leliana asked reluctantly. 

 

Halia’s expression turned stony. “What is there to say? ‘Sorry the Queen tried to have you executed, but things weren't really working out anymore anyway?’ No, he primarily stuck to, ‘You will perform the Joining or I will have a difficult time convincing the Landsmeet not to strip the Order of Amaranthine and reinstate our exile.’”

 

“I'm sorry,” Leliana said softly.

 

“It doesn't matter. Here I am.” she said irritably. “Certainly this is a better use of time than looking for a cure to my inevitable creeping death by Blight or practicing my chosen craft to improve the lives of others across Thedas. I’m delight that your agents were able to track me down. It must have saved the palace months of work.”

 

“Are you very angry with me?” Leliana asked anxiously. 

 

Halia pushed out a breath. “No, I'm not angry with  _ you _ . I'm just… angry.”

 

“I understand,” she said.

 

“I know you do,” Halia nodded, her voice softening. 

 

Halia leaned against the wall and rested her head in her hand. The stone wall was cool against her skin and calmed her nerves. There was probably no one who understood what she was feeling better than Leliana.

 

“I have something for you, too,” Leliana said after a short silence. 

 

Halia arched a brow as her friend pushed a cache of documents toward her and swept a strand of fiery hair from her eyes. It was a surreal moment to truly see one of her dearest friends as a spymaster for the first time. 

 

“What's all this?” Halia asked in surprise. The package was at least as thick as Halia’s grimoire, which had taken 20 years of study to compile.

 

Leliana smiled, “A collection of things relevant to your interests.”

 

“Lots of notes on healing techniques and sketches of mabari pups then?” Halia asked facetiously.

 

“Of course,” Leliana replied with a giggle. “I had a room prepared for you. You're welcome to remain in my quarters if you'd prefer, but I thought you might want some space to yourself.”

 

Halia exhaled a defeated sigh. “Thank you for your generosity, it is most unnecessary. I can stay down in the camp with the Orlesian Wardens.”

 

“It's the least I can do for all the trouble. Besides, once our Ambassador finds out that you're  here, she won't hear of you staying in camp. I think you would like her. She is a brilliant diplomat, but she's managed to remain a genuinely good person as well,” Leliana laughed. 

 

“It should only be a few days,” Halia said with a reluctant smile. “I hadn't anticipated a long stay once the Joining was complete.”

 

Leliana cringed, and immediately Halia could see her mind trying to spin her next words positively. 

 

“Maker’s breath, Leliana. How can you possibly be this transparent about uncomfortable news be such a talented spy?” Halia huffed.

 

Leliana laughed. “It's exclusive to unguarded moments. But… Thom Rainier--”

 

“That's the Inquisitor’s friend she's asked us to poison?” Halia confirmed.

 

“Yes,” Leliana nodded. “But he is traveling in the Western Approach with the Inquisitor right now.”

 

Halia closed her eyes and breathed deeply. 

 

“I’m summoned urgently and compelled to bend to the will of King, Country, and Order, and my fucking recruit is at least a month in the opposite direction. Do you know how difficult it is to get here is seventeen days, Leliana? I went through the Tevinter Imperium _ alone,  _ which might actually be more dangerous that fighting the Archdemon. Do you have a locket? I would like to carry this moment with me for the remainder of my days.” Halia was ranting. 

 

She could feel the fury rolling off of her the more she thought about it. Arcs began forming on her fingertips and she could feel her hair standing on end. She breathed deeply, trying to get a grip on herself. As she exhaled her deep breaths, she tried to get the electricity to fold itself back into the Fade. 

 

“Halia!” Leliana was looking at her anxiously. 

 

Halia felt herself relax. “I'm so sorry. I should… get some air.”

 

And with that, she ran back down the stairs, grabbing at doors until she found one that led her outside. She leaned over the ledge of a footbridge outside the rotunda. The cold air braced her, and she finally began to feel a bit more firm in her bearings.

 

“Are you unwell, my lady?” asked a man's voice from nearby. 

 

Halia felt her muscles tense again. She turned her head and all of the air left her. 

 

“Andraste, preserve me,” Cullen breathed.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, sweet angels, it seems the fates have brought you together once more. And in such fine temperaments too. Hmm. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate it a ton. I have a little back log of chapters, and my plan is to post a finished chapter every time a new chapter is ready for Beta. If you'd rather gorge yourselves on finished work just let me know and beware the waiting game. 
> 
> My beta is the lovely and incredibly talented [ThedasWitch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThedasWitch/pseuds/ThedasWitch), who happens to write some delicious Dragon Age flavored stories that you should read!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the absolutely magificent [ThedasWitch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThedasWitch/pseuds/ThedasWitch) for being a wonderful Beta Reader. Thank you to you for reading my sweet little sinking ship.


End file.
